


Talk That Talk

by homosociallyyours



Series: Talk That Talk [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkwardness, Bad Dirty Talk, Cake, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Food Kink, Friends to Lovers, Liam Payne & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Phone Sex, Roommates, Sex Work, sex worker louis tomlinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 06:36:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13805538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/homosociallyyours/pseuds/homosociallyyours
Summary: Harry's in financial trouble and asks Louis for some dirty talking tutorials so that he can get a job doing phone sex. But can Louis survive their training sessions? And would it help or hurt matters if Harry wasn't very good at dirty talk?





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Just a content note: There's no actual sex here, but plenty of talking about sex and sexual situations, hence the mature rating. And the food kink is pretty mild and playful, but I wanted to tag it just in case. 
> 
> Also, I am not a sex worker, and realize that my description of Louis' phone sex job is completely inaccurate. Hopefully that's ok!
> 
> This is my first legit fic in this fandom and the longest work of fiction I've written so far. I think I could spill a lot more words for Harry and Louis, though. They really deserve it.
> 
> And finally, BIG thanks to my 2 betas, [angelbabystrange](angelbabystrange.tumblr.com) and [larrycaptains](larrycaptains.tumblr.com) for giving this a read and some notes. I really appreciate it.

Louis walked in to find Harry slumped over their kitchen table, papers spread out beneath him and an Elliott Smith album playing loudly on the stereo. He hung up his keys and coat and turned the volume down as he passed by the stereo before stopping to ruffle Harry’s hair. 

“What’re you up to, Haz? If you’re planning your suicide I hope you know I won’t let it happen.” Harry groaned and shook his head, but reached back and grabbed ahold of Louis’ wrist, not letting go until Louis started massaging his scalp.

“Suicide’s not funny, Lou,” he said, his face still pressed into the table. “But this is as close as I get. Budgeting.” He slid a piece of paper out and waved it in the air before letting his hand drop against the table with a dramatic thump. “Hate it.” 

Louis pulled out the chair next to Harry, switching hands momentarily but still continuing to scratch and rub at his head. “Lemme see,” he said, taking the paper that Harry had been holding up. His expenses were in one column that stretched almost the full length of the page, while his monthly income sat right at the top, one lonely little four digit number. Louis frowned. “Looks awful,” he said, moving his hand from Harry’s head to his neck. “But not any different than usual. What brought this on?” 

“Minimum payment’s going up on all my credit cards,” Harry said as he sat up. Louis stopped massaging his neck and Harry whined at him, pushing his head back like a cat. Louis shook his head but didn’t say anything, moving down to rub at Harry’s shoulder. “And work’s cutting my hours all next month.” 

“Fuck, Hazza, that’s shit,” Louis said. He let his hand rest in the center of Harry’s back and angled toward him. “Come up with any solutions?” he asked, glancing down at the papers on the table and guessing he knew what Harry’s answer would be. 

“Sell an organ, maybe” Harry said with a shrug. Louis bit back a smile. 

“Now Harold, what would the boys do if you sold off your most valuable organ? There’d be rioting in the streets!” He widened his eyes and put a hand to his chest and Harry laughed. Penis jokes were always a good bet when Harry was down. 

“Not all of us are as good at selling their dicks as you, Lou,” Harry said, swiftly moving his hands to pinch at Louis’ side. He was smiling now, budgeting funk nearly forgotten, and Louis laughed as he swatted his hands away. 

“Oi! It’s me voice that makes money!” he said, hand going to cup his dick protectively, since he knew that was likely to be Harry’s next target. “Only sell the illusion of dick, thank you very much.” 

Harry mouthed along with him mockingly, then shook his head with a sigh. “Well I wish I could make the kind of money you do, anyway. I’ll bet I could pay off a couple of credit cards in no time.” 

Louis rolled his eyes. They’d been through this a few times since moving in together two years ago, when Louis had finally told Harry that the majority of his income came from phone or chat sex and not just “working in a call center” as he’d initially said. Of course Harry had expressed the kind of interest most people did when they found out what Louis did. 

“How much do you make? I wanna do it!” he’d said, grabbing onto Louis’ shoulder and shaking it excitedly. Louis had explained how it worked and slowly watched Harry’s excitement dwindle to nothing (also a typical reaction, which is why Louis rarely told his friends any details about his job). 

“They still don’t give you a script and you rarely get to screen the calls, Haz,” Louis said with a shrug. “And you’re the one who said phone sex isn’t your strong suit.” 

“I’m not bad at it,” Harry said defensively. He paused, staring down at his budget as Louis watched the tension come back to his body. Louis was about to reach out and give Harry another head rub when Harry turned to him, his face serious. “What if I could try it?” 

Though they’d had a version of this conversation before, Harry had never actually asked if he could try doing what Louis did. At most he’d said, “I’ll bet I could do it if I really wanted to,” and left it at that. Louis leaned back, giving Harry a hard look as he considered his options: he could give Harry a flat no and try to help him come up with some other solution, or he could say yes and maybe offer a few pointers. Get Harry in touch with Stan if he was actually any good. 

“Fine, yeah,” Louis said, trying to sound far more casual than he felt. Harry sputtered back at him, then nodded vigorously, and Louis drummed on the table. “I guess I can help you,” Louis said, just as Harry asked, “how’s this going to work?” and they stared at one another, each waiting for the other to continue speaking. Finally Louis waved his hand, telling Harry to go on. 

“So, how’ll this work? If I’m just going to try it out, I mean? Like, do they do...trials? Or something like that?” Louis watched as Harry swallowed hard after he spoke, his obvious nervousness making Louis want to comfort him. He put his hand back on Harry’s neck and gave it a light squeeze. 

“They do an interview, but you’ve got to be ready when you walk in. Stan will have one of the guys do a test call with you-- just a short one --and then he’ll say yes or no. You need to practice before that. I can help you here, get you ready for it.” He took his hand away from Harry’s neck, suddenly feeling like the physical contact would make things too awkward. “Not playing this though,” Louis said, pointing toward the stereo. “End up making people cry. Don’t need that.” He stood up to head toward his room. “We’ll start tomorrow, eh, Harry? Maybe play some Mario Kart tonight instead?” 

Harry looked up from shuffling the papers around on the table and nodded, chewing on his lip. “Tomorrow, yeah,” he said, looking nervous. “Oh, I was gonna make tacos tonight, if you want to join?”

“Sounds good, mate,” Louis said as he got to his door. Once inside he pulled out his phone and texted Liam, his best friend from work. 

Louis: think i did something really stupid  
Liam: what else is new ;P  
Liam: so what is it?  
Louis: told harry i might help him get a job  
Louis: with us  
Louis: but like, help him  
Liam: oh shit  
Liam: ur fucked  
Liam: if he doesn’t know u like him yet he will soon  
Louis: help  
Liam: sorry man idk what u should do  
Liam: pray for the world to end?  
Liam: or tell him how u feel maybe?  
Liam: bang it out

Louis whined at Liam’s response and tossed his phone on the bed, pulling off his clothes to change into a soft pair of joggers and a worn out band t-shirt that he’d stolen from Harry a few months earlier. When he picked his phone back up to plug it in, he noticed that Liam had responded again. 

Liam: or just hope hes really really bad at it  
Louis: ha yeah right

As if the universe would ever be so kind.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had hoped to turn the text conversations into actual formatted images so that I could include emojis, but guess what? That didn't happen. So emojis are noted with a description inside parenthesis, like this: (eggplant emoji). Y'all know what it looks like.

Louis was off for the day and spent most of it lying on the couch, re-watching episodes of Friends and scrolling through facebook and twitter on his phone until he heard Harry get home around half five. They’d already agreed that they’d have their first training that night after dinner, and Louis waited til Harry had said hello and gone off to his room to change before calling in an order to their favorite Chinese delivery place. By the time Harry was out of the shower, the food had arrived, and they ate on the couch, passing the containers between the two of them until they were full and they’d finished three Friends episodes. 

Harry was the one who turned off the television and moved so that he was facing Louis, hands twitching in his lap. “Should we, um, here? Or at the table?” 

“Here’s fine,” Louis said, taking a deep breath that did little to calm him down. “We should have some water, maybe,” he said, hoping to buy himself a moment but foiled by Harry, who gestured toward two full glasses on the table. 

“Got that before dinner,” he said, shifting a pillow so it was behind him. He took a long drink of water and Louis watched him swallow it down, thinking he could probably turn that into a lovely bit of smut later, depending how well Harry did. 

“Alright, first thing to remember is that it’s normal to get aroused while you’re doing this, but it’s just as normal not to. Though the more you get used to it the easier it is to just think of it like any kind of work. Boring, monotonous, not nearly as fun as it looks on the tin,” Louis said as much for himself as for Harry. “Why don’t we get started by just seeing where you are,” he said, miming a phone with his right hand. 

“Now?” Harry asked, tucking his feet beneath him and inching away from Louis. “I thought, um,” 

“It’s practice, Haz. Like a footie coach would have everyone kick a ball and run some drills on the pitch to see who should go where.” Harry looked back at him, still confused and vaguely panicked. “Or the tutorial mode in a video game, where you get prompted for things. Just,” Louis paused, then took a breath and leaned back. “Ring-ring. Ring-ring.” He looked to Harry expectantly for a moment, then turned his head away. 

“H’lo, Harry speaking, who’s calling please?” Harry said, voice pitched higher than his usual rumble. It almost made Louis laugh, but he covered it with a cough. Lowering his own voice slightly, he responded. 

“Hey, baby. My name’s Will. You sound sexy, Harry. What’re you wearing?” Playing the role of the caller really didn’t take much effort. Most of the men who called in followed a pretty standard pattern, and doing his job for three years meant that he knew it well and was going to make this as easy as possible for Harry. 

“Um, I’m wearing a grey t-shirt, inside out, and flannel pyjama bottoms,” Harry said. It was accurate, but accuracy wasn’t really the ideal in this situation. 

“Mm, that’s too bad, I was hoping you’d have your shirt off, like me,” Louis said, shifting so he could put his feet on the coffee table. “Thinking about you touching your chest, Harry. Bet you’re fit as fuck. Toned, nice round pecs.” Not every caller wanted to imagine muscles, but Louis and Liam had played a game where they tallied how many people used the phrase “fit as fuck” one night and it was shockingly high. 

“I’m not too bad,” Harry said conversationally. “Could stand to get back to spin class more than twice a month, but it’s hard, you know? How about you, you sound like you’re pretty hot, yeah?” 

Louis hummed in agreement, not sure if he should even continue, but not wanting to leave Harry feeling that he was doing a bad job. “Yeah, I’m hot for you, baby. Hard for you. You like that?” 

“I usually like a bit more warm-up before I’m handling someone’s dick, but if that’s how this usually goes then, yeah, I...really like it.” Harry cleared his throat. “Like how hard you get, Lou.” His voice was finally back to normal, nice and deep and a really good fit for phone sex, and Louis almost let him continue when he remembered he’d said his name was Will. 

“Ah, fuck, Haz,” he said, turning to look at Harry, who was blushing furiously. He immediately wanted to set Harry at ease. “You called me Louis. It’s alright though, luv, should probably give you notes anyway, hm? Good stopping point.” He reached out and patted Harry’s knee, giving it a squeeze and then leaving his hand there as a point of contact. Hopefully this wouldn’t be too awkward. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” Harry said, taking another sip of water and nodding his head as though he was encouraging himself. “How’d I do?” 

“Yeah, not too bad, ‘specially at the end there. You have a really great voice, Hazza. I sometimes take mine deeper when I’m working because it drives a lot of the callers wild. Yours is naturally so deep and raspy, it’s really sexy on its own. So, yeah, just let it be.” Louis looked at Harry, watching as he raised his head just slightly and looked at Louis through his eyelashes. 

“My voice is sexy?” Harry asked. He fluttered his eyelashes and Louis laughed, squeezing his knee again. 

“Playing coy, Harry, really? Yes, you’ve got a lovely voice. When you started though you were pitching it higher, dunno if you were trying for being more feminine or if you were nervous. Anyway, if you need to say a bit to get in the right range before you answer, that’s fine.” Louis tried to think of other positive things to say about what Harry had said. “Oh, and you asked a couple questions, that’s good. Right instinct. You want to keep them talking and engaged, because a longer call usually means more money.” 

Harry nodded. “What else?” he asked, looking back at Louis intently. 

“Well, there was some room for improvement elsewhere,” Louis said, trying to hone in on the things that Harry could probably fix without too much problem. 

“Like?” Harry’s face had shifted from intent to annoyed, and Louis hesitated, hoping to be as diplomatic as possible. 

“It was a bit...awkward at times,” he said, watching Harry’s face shift into a full blown frown and figuring he may as well go full steam ahead. “You started out greeting me like a receptionist, first off. ‘Who’s calling, please?’ makes it sound like you’re pulling out a message pad to get a name and number.” 

“Okaaay,” Harry said, gesturing for Louis to continue. “What else?” 

“Alright. I asked what you were wearing, and…” 

“I said what I was wearing!” Harry huffed. Louis shifted closer and tickled Harry’s bicep, smiling at him fondly. 

“You did. Said exactly what you were wearing, even. Might as well ‘ve told me how many days since you last washed it, too!” Louis couldn’t help but laugh, and Harry swatted at him. 

“What am I supposed to say, then?” he asked. 

“Hm, well,” Louis spread his hands in front of him, pretending to weigh his options. “You can go for an outfit-- a sexy one, mind you --knowing that you’ll need to keep the details straight in the end; or you can go for nearly naked-- nothing but pants, maybe joggers but no pants --and look for other ways to stretch the call that don’t involve getting stripped down.” 

Harry furrowed his brow. “Why not just tell the truth?” Louis shook his head. 

“Oh young Harold. The truth is the last thing you want to tell. You’re selling a story to anyone who calls, and it should really be a story that they want to hear.” 

“How’re you supposed to know what they want to hear?” Harry asked, rocking back for a moment so he could unfold his legs, laying them across Louis’ lap. Louis moved closer, fitting himself under the bend in Harry’s knees. 

“Context clues, mostly. Mirroring back what they’ve said to you. If a caller mentions they’re only in pants, you can tell them you are too. If they talk about how toned you must be, you don’t tell them you ‘really should go to spin class more often,’ you keep on about how fit you are, yeah?” 

Harry scrunched his nose like he was fighting a sneeze. “So, like, if I was calling and I said, ‘you must be pretty fit and toned,’ you might say something like…” he trailed off and looked at Louis hopefully. Louis sighed. 

“Yeah, baby, you know you’ve caught me just after a workout and I’m still a bit sweaty. Wish you were here to help me get all cleaned up,” Louis said, leaning his head back against the couch and trying to think of the responses that might be easiest for Harry to call to mind later. “Or something different, like this: I’m pretty toned but it’s been ages since I’ve had a really good, hard workout. I’ll bet you could put me through my paces, couldn’t you?” 

Harry nodded, wetting his lips. “That’s really good, Lou. You just,” he waved his hand in the air, “think of these?” Louis laughed and nodded back to him. 

“Yeah, it gets easier after a while. When I got started it was a bit awkward for me too though, so no need to give up now, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Harry said. “What else?” 

“I dunno, Haz, that’s pretty much everything,” Louis said, putting his hand on Harry’s foot and rubbing at it absentmindedly. “Did you wanna try again?” 

Harry flexed his foot, pushing it into Louis’ hand. “Yeah, one more time,” he said. “But keep rubbing my feet, I like it.” 

“Kinky, Harry, a foot fetish already!” Louis said, teasing Harry in the hopes that it would get him out of touching him while they went through another trial run. Harry might not be great at saying things that would get Louis worked up, but he figured it wasn’t worth risking anything. Harry kicked his foot free and Louis used the opportunity to move out from under Harry’s legs, sliding back over to the other end of the couch. “Ready?” he asked, once again miming picking up a phone. 

This time Harry followed suit, holding his hand out in a phone shape and looking back at Louis expectantly until Louis imitated the phone ringing, at which point he cleared his throat and brought his hand to his face, rumbling out a “hello” that sounded somewhere between sleepy and fucked out. Nearly perfect, in other words. Louis quickly turned away to get things started. 

“Well hello. Haven’t heard your voice before. Who am I talking to, love?” Louis was trying to channel one of his regulars callers, a man who called himself Steven and who was particularly fond of being talked through mutual blowjobs. He was a favorite of Louis’ because he liked to give as good as he got, which meant that sometimes he said things that Louis and a few of the other men he worked with would pass around to use in future calls. 

“Harry. I’m new,” Harry said, a smile behind his voice. “Who do I have the pleasure of talking with on this fine night?” Louis stifled a grin. 

“Steven, love. You’ve got a nice voice there, Harry. Deep. I do love that in a man.” Harry giggled at that and Louis turned toward him, raising his eyebrows. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself then?” 

“Oh. I’m 24. Tall, with dark hair. Curly hair, actually. And. Umm, green eyes. Four nipples, which is pretty unusual I guess. Oh, and a lot of tattoos, though I wouldn’t mind a few more. Does that sound good to you?” Harry sounded unsure about the whole thing, and Louis hoped he could turn it around, maybe build up his confidence a bit. 

“Ooh, you sound gorgeous Harry. A voice like yours and a nice little body? Bet you’ve got a lovely cock, too. I’m getting hard just thinking about you, thinking about you rubbing at your cock through some tight little jeans.” Louis heard Harry make a sort of whining noise that he cut off quickly, and he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat before he continued. Maybe steering the conversation back to something they’d talked about before would help. “What are you wearing, Harry?” Louis prompted. It took Harry a moment to respond. 

“Uhhmmm, you were right about those tight jeans. They’re skin tight. Black. Holes in the knees.” Louis could hear Harry draining his water glass when he paused. “I could take them off, but I didn’t have any pants to wear with them this morning. I guess I was in a hurry when I left the house.” 

Louis cringed inwardly. Harry wasn’t so far off, really. The thought of him going commando under a pair of tight black jeans-- Louis knew just the ones he was talking about --was filthy and gorgeous. But then he had to frame it as being in a hurry and needing to do laundry, pretty well spoiling the image. He decided to try to keep it going anyway. “No pants under those lovely tight jeans, hm? Makes it all the easier for me to make you hard through the fabric. Put my mouth on you, yeah? Til you can’t wait to take that cock out for me? Do you like that?” 

Harry exhaled heavily. “Yeah, that sounds like something I’d like,” he said, his voice shakier than before, the deep edge worn away and revealing his nerves. “And I could touch you through your jeans too, like with my mouth, or my hands.”

“Bet you have big hands to go with that big dick of yours, don’t you?” Louis asked. He willed himself to not actually think about Harry’s hands or his dick, wishing he hadn’t said it in the first place. 

“I never said my dick was big,” Harry countered. It was the equivalent of a record being scratched at a party; probably one of the worst things you could say in response to someone talking about the size of your cock. Louis couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Harry, oh my GOD,” he said, turning to him and shaking his head. “Didn’t think I’d have to say this, but you never try to tell someone you have a little dick.” 

“I didn’t say it was little,” Harry protested. “I was trying to be suggestive. Like: I never said it was big, but I’m glad you like how big it is!” He was pouting, and had pulled his legs in so that he was practically folded up on the couch. 

“Hey,” Louis said, stretching his foot out to poke Harry’s thigh. “That was much better in general, yeah? Massive improvement from the first time.” 

“You’re not just saying that?” Harry asked, still folded up on himself, but turning to look at Louis now. Louis considered for a moment before responding. 

“No, it really was better. The tight jeans with no pants gave me a lot to play with, even if you did make it sound like you’d overslept on laundry day. And I don’t know, the regular I was thinking of when I was doing my bit probably would’ve loved the way you described yourself, even if you decided it was useful to mention your extra nipples after three minutes on the phone.” Harry pulled a face at Louis. 

“Now you’re just teasing me,” he said. Louis shrugged and nodded back at him. 

“Don’t call me Tommo the Tease for nothing, do they?” Louis asked as he stood from the couch. “Anyway, you did good for your first tries. We’ll give it another shot tomorrow, yeah?” Harry nodded back. “Gonna hit the loo and have a cuppa. You want one?” 

“I’ll wait til you’re done to have a wee, thank you very much,” Harry joked. Louis smiled back at him, glad that he didn’t seem too upset by Louis’ teasing. He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he flicked on the kettle and headed to the toilet. A text was waiting from Liam. 

Liam: so, did you (eggplant emoji)??

Louis sighed as he typed a response. 

Louis: fuck off, Lima  
Liam: that’s a no then  
Liam: so how’d it go?  
Louis: it may not be as bad as i expected  
Liam: you mean he was good?  
Louis: he was kind of awful actually  
Liam: nfw  
Liam: how awful?  
Louis: just awkward really  
Louis: started out with what are you wearing & he described his pyjamas  
Liam: lmao  
Liam: ur joking right?  
Louis: he got better

Louis almost mentioned Harry basically implying his cock was small, but figured Liam would probably fuck up and tease him with it, which would be awkward as shit. 

Louis: anyway i can probably handle him being interested in this for a couple of weeks  
Louis: then he’ll get bored or not want to anymore  
Liam: u 2 are gonna fuck before the month is out

Louis turned his screen off and washed his hands, shaking his head at Liam’s prediction. As if that’s what would happen with all of this. It was completely ridiculous, at least on Harry’s part, since there was no way he had any interest in Louis. 

When he returned to the kitchen, Louis found Harry leaning against the counter, blowing across a mug of tea. “Yours is over there,” Harry said with a flick of his eyes toward the kettle. “And I’m making mug cake to share.” Louis squeezed Harry’s arm as he passed. 

“Ah, you’re too good to me, Hazza,” he said, grabbing his mug and giving it a tiny sip. It was perfect, which came as no surprise. He smiled back at Harry, who half-heartedly shrugged in agreement. 

The microwave dinged and Harry turned around, pulling out a mug and squirting a reckless amount of chocolate syrup into it, followed by an equally massive spray of whipped cream. He looked at Louis as he picked up the mug, licking a bit of whipped cream off the rim of the cup. “Friends?” he asked, gesturing toward the couch with the cake mug. 

“Yeah, could watch another episode or two while we share that,” Louis said. “Be right there.” He’d be in deep trouble if Harry could ever channel that sort of domestic hotness into a viable phone sex persona. The chances were slim, at least, if this night was any indication. At least that’s what Louis hoped. 

“Get spoons, Lou,” Harry yelled from the other room. “It’s too hot to eat with our fingers.” 

Too right, Louis thought as he pulled the spoons from the drawer and went to join Harry on the couch.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, emoji is denoted like this: (eggplant emoji) and it's Liam's favorite thing to text to Louis. True story. 
> 
> Actually made up story, but. It is what it is.

Since Louis was going to be working for the next couple of nights, he gave Harry the homework of coming up with a few scenarios that he might enjoy using as a jumping off point for their next training session. “It’s just learning how to improvise a bit,” Louis had said when they talked about it over breakfast one morning. “You start with something you know, and then move on to something else, but applying the skills you’ve practiced. Easy enough, yeah?” Harry had agreed hesitantly, downing the last sips of his coffee and saying something about needing to go into work early, and then they only saw each other in passing until it was time for their next training date. 

This time it was Harry who was off and Louis who got home to find him lying on the couch, curled onto his side and writing in his black notebook. As Louis came in and took off his coat, Harry sat up, closing the notebook and scooting over on the couch so Louis could join him. Louis fell back into the couch and then flopped over into Harry’s side, leaning on him until Harry pulled him in for a proper cuddle. 

“Bad day, Lou?” he asked, angling himself into the side of the couch so that he could fit Louis against his hip. 

“Could’ve been worse,” Louis said, running his hand over the soft fabric of the joggers that covered Harry’s calves. “But definitely could’ve been better.” 

“What--” Harry started to ask, just as Louis blurted out, “Zayn gave notice.” Harry shifted slightly and tightened his grip on Louis’ shoulder. 

“Zayn quit? That means you’re definitely hiring soon,” Harry said, his voice trailing up with excitement. “Think I can be ready in time?” 

“We can try, Haz,” Louis said half-heartedly. There was no way Harry could improve that much unless they were working a lot harder and with a much greater frequency than an hour or so every few days. “Maybe we can see where you’re at tonight,” he suggested. “Then we’ll figure out if-- or, I mean, when --you should set something up with Stan.” 

“Cool, thanks, Lou,” Harry said. “I was just finishing up the uhh, assignment? The thing for tonight.” Louis grabbed at Harry’s ankle, pinching it gently. 

“Oh really? How’d it go?” he asked, his bad mood already starting to lift as they sat talking. 

“Wait and see,” Harry said, giving Louis’ hand a light smack with his notebook. “I was gonna make dinner first, maybe? Unless you’d rather order something?” Louis nodded, nuzzling against Harry and looking up at him with the most pitiful look he could muster. 

“I need pizza,” he said weakly. “Please, Harry.” Harry smiled back at him fondly, then booped his nose. 

“Only ‘cause you’re cute,” Harry said. Louis laughed and pulled out his phone. 

“Yeah right, Hazza. I’m paying anyway, so free pizza for you.” Louis pulled up the pizza place from his contacts and dialed, knowing he’d have to let it ring for a while before they’d answer. He drummed on Harry’s thighs as he waited, phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear. Meanwhile, Harry twisted away and opened his notebook, scrawling something in it too quickly for Louis to catch it before he snapped it closed again. 

Their pizza arrived about 45 minutes after they’d ordered, enough time that Louis had been able to shower and change while Harry wrote a bit more to prepare for later. They ate quickly, both of them hungrier than they’d realized, then sprawled back onto the couch, Louis leaning against Harry as an 80s rom-com played on the tv with the sound turned down in front of them. Harry clicked it off just as Louis was starting to feel himself getting drowsy, and he groaned, poking Harry in the thigh. 

“I was watching that,” he said, though he absolutely had not been. Harry put his hand in Louis’ hair and scratched at his scalp. 

“You were twenty minutes from falling asleep,” he said. “And we still have to practice tonight.” Louis sat up with a sigh. 

“Fine, you’re right. OK. Tea, and then we’ll start.” Louis started to get up, but Harry beat him to it. 

“I’ll make the tea. Did you, I mean, should I give you...do you want to read what I wrote? So that we’re, I don’t know, improvising on the same theme?” Harry ran his hands through his hair, ruffling it as he spoke. “Or is it better if you don’t know?” 

Louis smiled up at him. “No, that’s a great idea, Haz. I’ll read while you make tea.” He leaned over and pulled the notebook out from where Harry had stuffed it into the couch cushion. “Mind if I find it on my own?” he asked, holding the book up to Harry, who grabbed it rather quickly. 

“I’ll find it,” Harry said, blushing slightly. “There’s lots of useless stuff in here.” He flipped through the pages and then handed the book to Louis. “I just came up with three if that’s alright,” he showed Louis the pertinent pages, pinching them between his fingers. 

“That’s perfect, Haz,” Louis said, reaching up and taking the book from Harry’s hand, careful to keep the pages that Harry had marked as permissible separate with his fingers. “This’ll give us loads to work with.” Louis hadn’t intended the pun, but Harry caught it anyway and giggled. 

“Thought we were just doing a dry run, Lou,” Harry replied with a quirk of his mouth at his own (very intentional) pun. 

Louis bit his lip as he looked at Harry. “Been practicing on your own, have you then?” he asked, eyebrow raised suggestively. Harry turned to walk away, then looked over his shoulder, batting his eyelashes coquettishly. 

“Maybe I have,” he said before turning to walk into the kitchen, hips swaying. He looked back as he reached the doorway and gave his bum a little smack when he saw that Louis was still watching him. Louis laughed aloud, but all he could think was that maybe Harry really had been practicing and things were about to turn very difficult. He resisted the urge to text Liam, who’d probably just respond with a string of eggplant and champagne bottle emojis anyway, and started reading instead. 

Harry really hadn’t written much. His first scenario was the most fleshed out, though it basically boiled down to talking through hand jobs. It was good, though-- much better than Harry’s previous attempts from the other night --and Louis read it over approvingly. The second was a bit shorter, but more specific: Harry was submissive and was being coached through everything explicitly. He’d written out snippets of dialogue, and Louis swallowed thickly as he read it, imagining Harry’s voice in both roles and finding himself smiling at the thought. The final scenario wasn’t more than a couple of sentences, not nearly as fleshed out as the others, and Louis nodded, thinking that might be the safest choice. It clearly hadn’t inspired Harry in the same way as the others, so Louis wouldn’t have to worry about being affected and Harry would still get a bit of practice. Everyone would win. 

The sound of Harry setting a pair of mugs on the table brought Louis’ attention back from the notebook, and he smiled gratefully before Harry sat back down on the couch. “Thought we’d start with the third one, Haz. Give us both a chance to improvise a bit,” he said, setting the notebook between them. Harry cocked his head to the side and smiled. 

“Third one?” he asked, looking at the notebook. His eyes widened a bit and he scrunched his nose, looking like he was about to have a sneezing fit. He didn’t, instead just blinking hard and looking back at Louis. “You don’t wanna start with one of the others? I wrote up a lot for the first one,” he said, flipping the page back and pointing at it. 

“Yeah,” Louis agreed. “But you need to work on improvising. The things you wrote for the first two bits flowed pretty well. So if we try one you didn’t get a chance to write out, you’ll get better practice.” 

Harry chewed at his lip as he listened, nodding along with everything Louis said. “Right, you’re right, Lou. It’ll be fine.” He leaned forward and took a sip of his tea. “Good practice.” 

“Totally,” Louis said. He was ready to get it over with and go back to lying against Harry on the couch with a shitty film lulling him to sleep. But Harry needed him to do this, and so he’d do it. 

“Anything you wanna tell me before we get started?” Harry asked. He rubbed his palms over his thighs and looked at Louis expectantly. “Stuff to keep in mind, maybe?” 

“Right. Yeah. Mirroring. Use me as a guide for where to go and what sort of things to say. There’s no need to be honest. I can see you, but anyone on the phone can’t.” Louis looked up, reaching for anything else that might give Harry a bit of an edge from the last time. “Oh, and you might want to use another name. I usually do. Helps keep it separate from me and makes it easier for me to think of it as just a bit of fun.” 

“Oh,” Harry said, his surprise apparent. “You don’t go by Louis? What do you use? Do I need a name like…” Harry thought for a moment, a smile cracking his face before he spoke, “Dick Willy or something?” Louis laughed. 

“Dick Willy? Really?” Louis reached out and swatted at Harry’s hand where it was stretched across the back of the couch. “I usually just come up with a generic name. Will, Tim, Mark, whatever. Sometimes I use Liam’s name just so I can tell him that if a repeat client calls back asking for Liam he’ll have to take it and pretend to be me.” 

Harry shook his head fondly. “You’re such a prick,” he said. “Don’t do that to me if I actually get good enough to work with you, yeah?” 

“I would never,” Louis said, pretending to be shocked at even the implication. He really wouldn’t do it to Harry, though. It was fun with Liam because he’d do the same thing to Louis. They’d handed off clients with weird tics and fetishes to one another over the years and then commisserated over their worst stories. But Harry wouldn’t do it to Louis and Louis couldn’t imagine ever putting Harry through the worst of those calls. It wasn’t even an option. He could still reach Harry’s hand, and he tapped at Harry’s middle finger with his own. “I promise that I’ve never called myself Harry and I won’t start now,” he said with a definitive nod. Harry smiled back at him. 

“Thank you,” Harry said, catching the tips of Louis’ fingers with his own. “But still. What do I call myself?” They sat in silence for a moment before Louis spoke. 

“You can just be Harry for now. And I’ll go by Louis. See if that makes it easier for you. You can come up with a different name later or rotate through a few. Sound ok?” Even as Louis said it, he thought it was a pretty terrible idea. He’d text Liam later and get nothing but the laughing til you cried emoji about it. 

“Oh. Yeah, we could do that,” Harry said. “If it’s not weird?” 

“No, it’s fine!” Louis pulled his hand away from where it was touching Harry’s. “We’re friends. It won’t be weird at all.” When Louis texted Liam later he’d have to leave this part out. There was no way he’d admit to being a gay man attracted to his best friend who’d just said ‘no homo’ before giving a phone sex lesson. He almost wished he could forget it himself. “So we should…” he gestured between the two of them and Harry nodded back. Louis exhaled and then dove right in, holding his hand up like a phone. “Ring!” he said, waiting for Harry to pick up. 

“H’llo?” Harry’s answered, his voice perfectly rough. Louis smiled, pleased that Harry had remembered the note on that from last time.  
“Hello there, sexy. Sounds like I called the right number if someone with a voice like yours answered.” 

“What kind of number were you trying to call?” Harry asked, keeping his voice nice and low. 

“The kind that lets me get off with a fit bloke tonight?” Louis let a teasing note come through as he spoke. “Does that sound about right?”

Harry’s breath hitched. “Yeah. You definitely got the right number. You don’t sound so bad yourself, y’know?” Louis could see the sly smile on Harry’s face without looking at him, and he returned it in kind. 

“Well I would say I’m pretty fit. Like to work out a lot. Just got out of the gym.” Louis cleared his throat. “You like to get sweaty, Harry?” He realized after he said it that he hadn’t asked for Harry’s name, but it was too late now. Hopefully Harry would roll with it. 

“Um, yeah. You could say that. I, um, also had a little workout before you called.” Harry shifted on his end of the couch. “I was so sweaty I had to take my shirt off. Was gonna change when you called, um…” 

“You can call me Louis. But let’s not get changed just yet, hm, Harry? Maybe we can do a little workout together.” 

“Right, let’s do that. What kind of workout did you have in mind, Louis?” Harry’s voice was starting to take on the edge of a customer service representative asking all the right questions, and Louis took a moment to think about how to fix that before he responded. 

“Oh, I like to keep my workouts varied. Sometimes I focus on my legs, get down into those deep squats until I can feel my thighs burning and my arse starts to ache. I like to go really hard with those. Feel it for a few days afterwards. You like that, baby?” 

“Y-yeah, I like leg day. A lot.” Harry coughed, then took a long sip of tea. “But...I really don’t care what I’m doing, as long as I get really hot. Sometimes I’ll take a hot yoga class just to get good and sweaty. Do you ever do that?” He sounded more sure of himself, finally. Louis tried to keep it going. 

“Oh, I’ll take any kind of workout if it’s going to get me sweaty. You know what really works? Riding. Do you like to ride, Harry?” 

“Oh, yeah, I do,” Harry said, an edge to his voice that made Louis’ stomach flip.

“You wanna ride me, don’t you, Harry? Wanna feel me slide my dick inside you?” As Louis said it, he worried it might be too much. Not if it was a real call, of course. Half the time the men he talked to were saying that kind of thing a few seconds in, the anticipation of having someone on the line getting them halfway to coming before they’d even heard Louis’ voice. 

“Mmhmm,” Harry said, his breathing shallow. “Want you to open me up and fuck me, Lou, fuck,” he said, his voice strained. “Wanna, wanna…” 

Louis knew he probably shouldn’t respond. He couldn’t look at Harry, but he had to be at least half hard, had to be fighting not to get himself off. But he hadn’t left yet, had he? Louis finished the thought for him. “Wanna lick the sweat off my body while I fuck you? Wanna be sore from how hard I’ll work you out, baby?” 

Beside him, Harry whined in response, then jumped up from the couch and headed out of the room. “Umm, gotta have a wee, Lou, sorry,” he said, slamming the bathroom door behind him a few seconds later. 

While he was gone, Louis willed his semi (mostly) away and tried in vain to look casual and unaffected before Harry’s return. He settled for gulping down his tea, which had gone completely cold, and pulling out his phone to text Liam. 

Louis: i’m totally fucked  
Liam: finally!!! Congrats!!!  
Liam: (a string of eggplant emojis)  
Louis: no lima, ugh  
Louis: 99% sure i just dirty talked haz into needing a wank  
Louis: he probably won’t ever want 2 talk 2 me again  
Liam: ummmmmmmmm  
Liam: wtf??  
Liam: why didn’t u take care of it?  
Liam: (eyeroll)  
Louis: he wouldn’t have wanted that  
Liam: ur dense af lou  
Liam: u and i could do what we do all day w each other and neither one of us would bat an eye  
Liam: but harry does after ??  
Louis: not that long like 10 min  
Liam: (crying laughter emoji)

“Who’re you texting?” Harry was standing over Louis, who quickly clicked his phone screen off. 

“Umm, Liam,” Louis said, annoyed with himself for not noticing Harry’s return. “He had a date. Was blowing me up when we were,” he gestured between the two ends of the couch, not really wanting to actually mention what they’d been doing. “Like having a vibrator in my pocket,” he said with a laugh. 

Harry shrugged. “Hate it when that happens,” he said, turning around to pick up his and Louis’ mugs and head into the kitchen. Louis watched him for a moment, then got up to follow him. 

“Should we call it quits for the night?” he asked when he saw Harry heating the kettle to make another cuppa. “It’s still early enough to watch a bit of telly.”

“It’s not weird?” Harry sighed, drumming his fingers on the countertop and staring at the kettle instead of turning to face Louis.

“It’s fine, Haz. Really. Just takes getting used to. That kind of thing happened to me a few times when I was starting out.” That part was a lie, of course, but Harry didn’t need to know that. He just needed to understand that Louis didn’t expect anything to change or to happen between them. “It’s not as though either of us is wanting to actually fuck each other, right? So. It’s nothing.” 

The kettle clicked off and Harry busied himself with making tea instead of responding immediately. When he did, it was quiet and he stared down into his mug. “Yeah, right, of course you’re right. Thanks, Louis.” 

They went back to the couch, Harry still looking sad as he plopped down on the opposite end of the couch from Louis. 

“Haz, get your arse over here so I can cuddle you until you don’t feel awkward anymore,” Louis said, tugging on Harry’s arm until he moved over, settling with his head resting on Louis’ arm and his back against Louis’ chest. They ended up turning on Friends, making it through “The One with Ross’s Wedding,” parts 1 and 2 before falling asleep halfway through “The One With the Truth About London.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I loved Liam and Louis' text conversations so much that they ended up having a proper hangout.

Louis batted away a bit of croissant that Liam threw at him from across the table, frowning when it landed in his coffee. “Will you stop throwing your food at me? You’re really not helping things.” Liam rolled his eyes and took another bite of croissant. 

“You deserve to have things thrown at you. Until you figure out how to recognize obvious. Signs.” He punctuated his last words by throwing wadded up napkins at Louis’ head. 

“For the last time Lima, Harry’s not in love with me” Louis said, waving his hands over his chest. “What happened last night was an accident. He hated it.” 

“It really wasn’t, Louis. I’ve seen you two together. He looks at you the way you look at him, it’s just that the two of you are so busy being certain the other doesn’t feel the same way that you don’t notice it.” 

Louis sighed. Liam was definitely not going to let this go. “Ok. What’s the solution then? Oh wise and all knowing Payno?” Liam smiled back at him, the self-satisfied grin that always meant trouble. “Oh, fuck, you have a plan, don’t you? And I’ve just walked into it.” 

“I do! And you have.” Liam clapped his hands, rubbing them together with glee. “You do the same sort of thing you did last night, only this time it’s your scenario.” Louis stared back at him, dumbfounded. 

“Let me get this right. You think that me having my own fantasy play out with Harry is going to make him fall for me?” Louis scrubbed his hand over his face and laughed. “You’re mental.” 

“Just think about it, yeah? He put himself out there and got into it. Into you,” Liam said, jabbing Louis with his finger. “And there you were, seemingly unaffected, texting away with one of your mates not even a few minutes later. So this time, you do something that’ll maybe show him how you feel, and see what happens.” 

“This is actually the worst idea you’ve ever had. Literally nothing worse than this one,” Louis said. He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, the picture of defiance. There was no way it would work. And no way he’d try it. “Besides. I don’t even have some kind of perfect Harry fantasy. I just like him, as is.” 

Liam smirked back at Louis. “Not buying any of that for a second, Tommo. Just. Do it, yeah? Tonight, while everything is still at the surface. Go home and see if he’ll give it another go, and this time don’t pretend you’re one of the regulars. Be you.” 

“Can’t promise anything,” Louis said. “And if he moves out because of this you’re paying his rent for a month til I can find a flatmate who’s not utter shite.” 

“I’m not worried,” Liam said with a smile.

***

Louis came home to find Harry at their kitchen table, once again looking over his bills and frowning, though without the Elliott Smith depression soundtrack playing this time. He set his things down and leaned over Harry, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder to look at what he was doing. 

“Still bad?” he asked. Harry tilted his head so it bumped Louis’ cheek. 

“It’s not good,” he said. “But it’s not as bad as it looked the other day. If I don’t get food out more than once a month, I can keep my job and just work for everyone who wants a day off, and that should hold me until I get something else going.” 

“Hmm. Not the phones, then?” Louis asked. He felt Harry holding his breath, and backed up to give him space. 

“Yeah, that wasn’t working, right? Like, I’m not good at it the way you are.” Harry stared down at the table, not looking up at Louis at all, and Louis had the fleeting hope that possibly, maybe Liam might have been right. 

“Let’s try one more time,” he said. Harry started to protest, but Louis sat down across from him and put his hand up. “No, Haz, listen. I’ve been thinking about it, and you really did improve yesterday. But it wasn’t fair to use something you might’ve fantasized about, yeah? I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve had a call that followed my fantasies. The caller sets it up. You’re just supposed to mirror, right?” 

“Well, yeah,” Harry shrugged. He definitely wasn’t convinced. “But I was trying to mirror, and I didn’t--” 

“You were getting there, though,” Louis said, laying his hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I really don’t want you living the kind of life where you can’t go to the pub with me or have Chinese when we’re tired, Haz.” Louis gave Harry his best puppy dog eyes, and Harry giggled. 

“Dick,” he said, pushing Louis’ hand off his shoulder. “Fine. But like, tonight? Or when?” 

“Yeah, tonight, if you don’t have other plans.” 

Harry picked up his budget and waved it at Louis. “Can’t afford plans,” he said. 

“Ooh, guess that means you’re cooking dinner then!” Louis rubbed his hands together. “Chicken Parmigiana, if you’re taking requests.” Harry just rolled his eyes and shook his head.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our exciting conclusion!

After dinner, Harry had said he needed a shower, and Louis had busied himself with cleaning up the kitchen and washing dishes. He was wiping down the counters when he felt his phone buzz. 

Liam: update???  
Louis: later  
Liam: you better do it tommo

“Liam again?” Harry asked, startling Louis.  
“Yeah, I’ll mute him,” Louis said, setting his phone on full silent mode so he wouldn’t get a buzz from Liam every couple of minutes. “Ready?” 

Harry nodded, his mouth set in a determined line. “Guess so,” he said, following Louis back toward the couch. They settled into their usual spots, Harry at one end and Louis at the other, an awkward silence falling between them. “How should we start?” Harry finally asked. Louis breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I was thinking it wouldn’t be so different from the first time, really. Just that I’d use something that wasn’t as easy for me. Might give you more to work with.” Louis was stalling. He’d been thinking about what to start with and still hadn’t figured it out. The problem was that there was very little he couldn’t see himself doing with Harry, and it was all going to come down to letting his guard down and just going for it. He didn’t have to worry that Harry would be good, at least. 

“Will you tell me, or do we just get started?” 

Louis’ mind raced as he tried to settle on a particular fantasy. He thought back to Harry making that mug cake the other night-- the sight of whipped cream and chocolate sauce on his fingers and the way his tongue had swiped over the edge of the mug --and figured that was as good a scene as any. “Maybe something domestic,” he said casually. 

“Domestic? Like French maids or something?” Harry asked, a puzzled look on his face. 

Louis felt himself blushing at the scene that was forming in his mind, and tried to hide it by turning his head as he spoke. “No, like, I walk into the kitchen and you’re standing there making a cake, one of those stupid mug cakes you always do.”

“They’re not stupid, Lou, they’re like, the perfect sized cake for one or two people, and you make them in a microwave.” 

“Sorry, not stupid. Just. It’s that kind of cake. And whenever you do it you’re so careful with measuring the flour and all the ingredients into the mug. You literally wipe down the counter if even a bit of flour spills out, right?” 

“So I’m in the kitchen, making a mug cake. Um. What am I wearing?” Harry asked tentatively.

Louis considered for a moment. “Not much. An apron, tight little briefs. You don’t see me come in, and I’m watching you putting everything together so carefully. Then you put the cup into the microwave.” 

“Mug,” Harry interrupted. “It’s a mug, not a cup.” 

“Right, the mug,” Louis agreed quickly. It really didn’t matter. “Anyway, you’ve set out all these things that you’re going to put on it, and I just know you’re going to make a mess with ‘em.” 

“How do you know that?” Harry asked, his voice playful. 

“You always do, Haz,” Louis said, shaking his head fondly. “Anyway you’ve got out the cream and powdered sugar and chocolate sauce. I watch you tipping the powdered sugar into a bowl, and it’s puffing out all over in this white cloud. Must be settling in your hair and on your skin.” Louis licked his lips at the thought of it. “And you drizzle a little cream in the bowl, and it runs down over the bottle, and you bring it up to your mouth and lick it. One continuous lick, from the bottom to the top.” 

“I see you out of the corner of my eye, standing there watching me,” Harry said, his voice rough and quiet now. 

“But you don’t let on that you see me just yet,” Louis added. “You stand there, stirring the cream and sugar together, and then you dip your thumb in and suck it off. You’re still tasting it on your tongue and you add a little vanilla.” 

“It’s not enough to just have a taste, though,” Harry said, taking over. “I put some on my finger and rub it over my lips like gloss, and then I lick it away slowly. Turn around and look at you standing there watching me. Do you want to help me eat this cake, Lou?” 

“Yes, yeah,” Louis said, too eagerly for his own liking. “Wanna watch you make it and then eat it with you. Take bites right from your fingers.” Louis closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the couch as he imagined it. 

“You should taste everything,” Harry said. “See if you like it first.” 

“I like everything you make, baby. Everything about you.” Harry inhaled sharply, and Louis opened his eyes, glancing toward him on the other end of the couch. He was dragging his thumb slowly over his lips and staring back toward the kitchen, not quite looking at Louis in return. So Louis pressed him.“Why don’t you taste it for me? Tell me what it’s like?” 

“It’s...sweet,” Harry said softly. 

“Wanna hear you taste it, too. Imagine that pretty mouth of yours sucking all the sweetness off your fingertips. Or off mine, if I were lucky.” For a moment, Louis worried that he’d said the wrong thing, Harry’s silence lingering for a beat too long. Then he heard a soft, wet noise, and turned his head just enough to watch Harry, eyes closed, sucking at the tip of his own index finger. The sight stole Louis’ breath, and he turned away quickly, not ready for Harry to open his eyes and see Louis watching him. 

“The glaze is almost too sweet,” Harry said. “The vanilla changes it, makes it feel richer. It’s hardens a little when it’s been out, and if I leave it on my finger there’s this sort of shell that almost cracks against my tongue before the sugar can dissolve. But when you pour it onto the hot cake, it just, like, soaks right in. It makes the top of the cake all sticky sweet.” Louis risked a glance at Harry just in time to see him lick at the tip of his finger, letting his teeth close around it. 

“Fuck,” Louis whispered, the sight nearly undoing him. It was loud enough that Harry opened his eyes, his gaze pinning Louis to the spot as Louis stared at Harry’s mouth.

Harry released his finger and took a breath. “It’s ready,” he said quietly. “If you are.” 

Louis could only nod back in response, not entirely sure if he was actually ready for anything but desperately wanting to be. 

“It’s bound to be hot,” Harry said carefully. “But I don’t think you’ll mind.” 

“No,” Louis managed to say. “As long as I have my mouth on you I won’t mind at all.”

“I wanna kiss you, Lou,” Harry said, biting at his lower lip. “Really kiss you.” 

Everything in Louis told him to move, to close the distance between himself and Harry, and he did it quickly, not really expecting that Harry would do the same, the two of them half colliding in the center of the couch. They were always physical with each other, always touching and intimate and open together, but something about actually kissing one another made Louis pause, wanting to appreciate the space between them. Harry seemed to be doing the same, slowly rucking up the back of Louis’ shirt to put his hands on Louis’ skin, his eyes darting to Louis’ mouth. 

“I’ll bet you taste better than cake,” Louis said, brushing his lips against Harry’s neck as he spoke.

“Fucking find out,” Harry breathed back, tipping his head down so that his lips could meet Louis’. 

They fit together better than Louis had ever thought they could, Harry’s mouth as lush as he’d imagined, but better, somehow. Inviting, warm, tender, protective: it was like kissing the physical embodiment of everything that Louis had ever wanted in a home. He deepened the kiss, drinking in the new yet familiar taste of Harry-- milky tea and chocolate and salty heat --and let himself sink into the pleasure of it until Harry pulled away, breathless. 

He was still holding Louis tightly, not letting any distance come between them, and Louis took the opportunity to suck a mark onto his neck, savoring the sensory experience of being enveloped in Harry with sight, smell, touch, taste, and sound: the curve of his throat and the heady scent of him along his jawline, the softness of his hair under Louis’ fingers and the sweetness of his skin, the faint sound of his heart beating fast in his chest. He scraped his teeth against Harry’s neck, wanting more of him, any of him, all of him. 

“Alright?” Harry asked quietly. 

“More than,” Louis said against Harry’s neck. He didn’t want to relinquish the closeness just yet.

“I’m sorry if I…” Harry stopped, shaking his head slightly. “You said you weren’t interested yesterday, so if this is just to like, build my confidence or whatever, you don’t need to.” Louis squeezed his eyes shut as Harry spoke, hating past Louis for saying what he’d said, even if he knew he’d done it for what he thought were good reasons at the time. 

Louis leaned back so he could catch Harry’s eye. “I might’ve been a bit full of shit when I said that,” Louis said. “I’ve liked you for a while, Haz.” 

“Actually liked me?” Harry asked, his eyes alight. “Like….”

“Spending my free nights with you, wanting to kiss you, thinking about licking chocolate sauce off your fingers when you make us microwaveable desserts,” Louis said, tucking his head back into Harry’s shoulder so he wouldn’t have to look at him. “Liam is going to be the worst when I tell him about this. He’s been saying you felt the same and I didn’t believe him.”

“Ohhh, that makes more sense than what I was thinking, actually,” Harry said. Louis looked up at him questioningly and Harry continued. “When you were texting him, I thought you were like, laughing about how bad I was or that I liked you.”

“Not at all,” Louis said. “Tonight was actually Liam’s idea. He told me to try a real fantasy that I’d had with you after how things went yesterday.”

“You weren’t supposed to pick that one you know. Yesterday.” Harry blushed, and Louis could feel the warmth of it as he continued. “I thought if I made it really vague you’d ignore it and go with one of the other ones.” 

“Pretty glad I didn’t,” Louis said. He kissed Harry again, taking his time with it, letting Harry’s hands roam and enjoying the feel of Harry’s body under his own. They broke apart when Harry tugged at Louis’ hair, his eyes dark and his lips swollen from kissing. He was still close enough that his nose brushed against Louis’ as he spoke. 

“D’you wanna take this to bed, Lou?” he asked. Louis smiled down at him slyly. 

“Let me think...I’ll take this,” he said, brushing his hand over Harry’s cock. “And this,” he slid his hand up Harry’s chest, “and, yes, all of this,” he traced his fingers over Harry’s lips as he flicked his gaze down Harry’s body. 

Harry grinned up at him, pleased, and Louis leaned down, whispering in his ear, “but I was hoping you’d consider making us dessert first, maybe?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Please leave a comment or come [say hi on tumblr](homosociallyyours.tumblr.com) if you like this fic! You can also reblog the tumblr fic post [here](http://homosociallyyours.tumblr.com/post/171320150816/talk-that-talk-by-homosociallyyours-harrys-in) and have my permanent gratitude!


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